A/N: I hope I'm capturing Kurt well. He's a little bit out of character because he's kind of scared anymore. But no worries! Fiesty-and-fabulous Kurt Hummel will return.

Next Chapter: SOON. (When, I don't know. Whenever the muse strikes me again.)

"You ready?" asked his father softly. Kurt nodded once with pursed lips. He was scared; there was no hiding this fact that underneath the unbreakable bravado he liked to cover himself with there was a scared little boy lurking underneath. Now that this ordeal had happened, that scared little boy was unmasked and prominent. He hated this, but he couldn't hide it anymore.

"You'll do fine."

"Don't leave," he muttered softly, almost a faint whisper. Tears were forming in his eyes.

"Trust me."

Burt Hummel turned around and walked back to the car. Kurt stood in front of the community center, eyes wide. His feet wouldn't move forward as much as he wanted them to. He spun around to see his father already out onto the road and speeding away. He sighed. There would be no help from him now...he had to do this himself.

He walked into the building to where the meeting area was. The door was wide open with a sign that read "PTSD Victims seminar" on the black felt. He stopped outside and breathed in once, his heart racing 100 miles an hour. He could do this, he just needed some time.

A woman walked in first before him. She looked like hell with sunken-in eyes and almost-white hair. She was basically bone. Kurt walked in after her. He moved to an empty seat next to a girl about his age, only she was wearing a baseball cap backwards, slouchy jeans, and a pair of large tennis shoes. Kurt almost thought she was a guy except her face was pretty. She looked butch, but her face was very pure and feminine. Kurt wondered what went on with her, but he wondered if he was going to find out.

When all the seats were full, a lady with a clipboard began to talk.

"Welcome," she said to the room full of quiet folks who stared at the floor, to the ceiling, or who were fidgeting with their clothing. "It's great to see you all here. We should begin introductions I suppose." She gave the room a small smile as people lazily watched her with their droopy eyes. "I'm Marlene."

The woman next to her was the one Kurt saw walk in first. When she spoke, he noticed that she didn't have teeth and her voice sounded ancient, raspy. "I'm Debby."

"Richard," murmured a man about 60, dressed in a heavy coat and combat boots.

"I'm Cat," said a younger woman who looked like she would've been beautiful years ago. Her blonde hair had dark brown streaks from her roots and her face looked worn.

The people in the room introduced themselves slowly, one wouldn't talk, and then the girl next to Kurt with the baggy clothes on opened her mouth and not a sound came out. She blushed and held up a piece of paper that said "Tory" on it. Kurt wondered how she lost her voice but was too afraid to know just yet.

"Kurt Hummel," Kurt said almost in a whisper. The room kept telling their names until finally Marlene had a chance to speak once more.

"Nice to meet you all. What this meeting is about," she began, glancing down to her clipboard which perhaps held her notes. "Is about getting a chance to talk. Everyone in this room wouldn't be here unless it was for a reason. That reason is because you all potentially suffer from the affects of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. If you don't want to talk, that's okay. But you will all get a chance to talk."

Kurt bit his lower lip. He looked at Tory next to him who met his eye. They looked at each other for awhile and then finally she smiled a pure and beautiful smile, without teeth. It somehow reached her sad eyes and her face lit up. Kurt smiled back at turned away. If she had somehow suffered from PTSD, how could she smile so wonderfully?

"Who would like to go first?"

No one volunteered, but then Tory raised her hand. She motioned for someone behind her to join her. She began to sign her words with quick hands. The person that had been behind her came up and kneeled down in front of her. She was a woman who, by the looks of her, was Tory's mother because they shared the same facial features.

"I'm Tory," said the mother. "I've lived in Lima my whole life."

Tory nodded.

"I like to dress like a boy because I found out I liked girls when I was 10. They were always so pretty and had really pretty hair." Her mother had tears in her eyes then. Kurt watched her with deep intensity. The woman wiped them away as Tory continued. "When I was in high school, I had a crush on the popular girl Christy. She had a really big football boyfriend." Kurt did not like where this story was heading. He found his heart beating faster as it progressed.

"She found me watching her one day and then cursed me out because of the way I was and how I watched her all of the time. She told her football jock boyfriend to kill me..."

Tory paused for a long while as her mother's eyes streamed tears. Her voice broke constantly while speaking but she kept on.

"...but he left me alive drowning in my own blood behind the school. That's when I moved from William McKinley. My vocal chords were so damaged that I can't talk anymore. I used to sing..." Her mom stopped and moved away from Tory then, walking out of the door. Tory sat their motionless. Kurt was shocked. He knew a Christy girl with a jock boyfriend. Christy was on the Cheerios. It took some time, but the boy was able to finally recognize Tory because she was in his 1st period class freshman year. Even then she dressed the same way...and he really never noticed her much till now. Also...she used to sing...

He looked at her, his own eyes watery. She turned her head and smiled at him once more with that pure smile. Almost dying wasn't something to smile about... but he knew. He knew the pain, the suffering, the world looked down on homosexuals as if they were another breed.

"Thank you, Tory," murmured Marlene with another one of her soft smiles formed on her face. "Next...?"

Kurt raised his hand.

Marlene smiled and nodded to Kurt who stood slowly to his feet. All eyes were on him and he felt a little self-conscious, but he continued to stand. His throat was dry so he had to clear it before he spoke.

"I'm gay too," said Kurt, looking down at Tory. "I've been struggling with my sexuality for a long time. People liked to throw me in the dumpsters and slushie me in the face. Sometimes it became more serious. They would punch me in my face, the stomach..." He hung his head for a minute, breathing slowly. Painful memories were threatening to burst free from his mental blockade and he didn't want that. "My mom died when I was young and my father doesn't seem how to handle his son being attracted to his same sex. He accepted it, but he wasn't a big fan. He felt it was awkward for him."

Another breath, this time one deeper. He let it out slowly, lethargically, preparing for his next words.

"One night I was walking home. My car was in dad's shop getting worked on and my father had to work late for whatever reason. I refuse to take the bus, so I decided that it would be okay to walk by myself. I've never had any serious run-ins with delinquents and my house was only about a 10-minute walk from school. It was late since our Glee club had finished practicing late and next thing I know these older males started calling me 'fag'."

He had to sit down then, his wall crumbling and the memories breaking free. He felt as if he was being punched and kicked all over again an then...

"They..."

He looked at Tory who had wide eyes.

"...raped..."

Boiling hot tears stung his eyes. He choked out the last word with fear.

"...me..."

The room was all too quiet. Kurt felt his eyes producing more and more salty, hot tears that trailed down his face messing up what little eye makeup was present. He quickly wiped his face, but was too scared to move, as if it would happen again. He felt that same sickly feeling in his stomach and his side hurt where they hit him.

Marlene stood up and walked over to Kurt who just sat there, letting his emotions become visible, almost embarrassingly so. She placed a hand on Kurt's thigh and another on his cheek and smiled. He stopped crying after that simple touch.

"Thank you, Kurt," she said softly. "We appreciate that story."

He smiled as she pulled away. Softly, and it didn't reach his eyes, but he smiled. She moved back to her spot. He looked at Tory, and she once again smiled.

After the meeting, the people talked briefly. Kurt sighed, wiping the last of his tears away-some of the other stories were heartbreaking, one woman had witnessed the death of her son. He really wanted a chance to speak with Tory. Or rather, he could speak with her mother while she signed her responses.

"Hi," said Kurt. She turned to him. She waved.

"I just wanted to say that you're an inspiration. I'm scared all the time anymore...I don't know how you aren't."

Tory turned to her mother who had came back into the room sometime during the stories were being told.

As Tory signed, her mother talked.

"I am," her mother said, dabbing her cheek and sniffing. "All the time. But I have friends. Lots of them now. They understand that I'm just the way I am..."

He nodded.

"That's great," he said softly. "I have some pretty amazing friends too." His eyes didn't leave Tory's lovely, kind face.

"I wish we could've met under better circumstances," her mother said. "And I could still talk."

He smiled a little. "Yes. The same with me."

He moved forward to hug her and she wasn't sure what to do then, but she eventually returned it. When he pulled away he just waved and left the room. It was nice to Kurt that he had finally got to relieve some of his stress. Since he knew he wasn't totally alone, he thought that maybe...just maybe...he could pull through this like a champion.

When he was finally outside of the community center and his father was waiting for him by the car, he ran to him. Instantly he threw his arms around his father.

"Are you okay, son?" said Burt.

"Yeah...I think I will be, dad." He chuckled a little through newly-formed tears. Together the father and son pair went back home, ready to face whatever troubles may come next.

A/N: I am sorry that this wasn't out sooner. I've been busy. The end of the school is near. This Friday! I'm excited! : D I have finals to study for and such.

So...

Yeah.

PLEASE REVIEW. Do it. NOW. PUSH THAT BUTTON BELOW THIS. (Estimation. : P)